The Praying Tree

Ten years of driving the same highway, past the same tree, the picture isat last complete. The eucalyptus tree and narrow birds above a blessedsteel sea with no thoughts of yesterday, today, or tomorrow.

Black cormorants on bare branches spread their wings as if in prayer.A sunny day in Summerland and the tree, visible only from the highway,hides its penitent perch from cars racing by too fast.

Four wheels swerve to avoid a sheer cliff, southbound on the 101.The fat sun slides its yolk into the glass ocean. Slow down, seean empty nest of woven round sticks in the praying tree.

Birds soak in rays without fear of melanoma or the natureof forgiveness. Slick imperfections, wet wingsopen and close in Morse code for goodbye.

“I consider myself an observant person. I was surprised that it took showing off the Pacific Ocean to a visitor for me to notice the simple splendor of eucalyptus on the border of Santa Barbara and Summerland that I’ve dubbed the praying tree.”—Melinda Palacio